


Rude -- MAGIC!

by KidaCakes



Series: Song Inspired Stanchez [1]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Just my interpretation of the song in story, M/M, Swearing, sort of a song fic, spanish pines - Freeform, stanchez, young!Rick, young!stan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7293253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidaCakes/pseuds/KidaCakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick isn't one for traditions. But he's willing to put up with them for Stan. Even if they end badly. </p><p>Enjoy your sins!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rude -- MAGIC!

**Author's Note:**

> This song doesn't scream Stanchez. Though, after listening to it at least a dozen times, on repeat, this is what was produced.

It was Saturday, one of the only days that Stanley’s father was off from work and home. It was the only day that they had to do this.

Rick had driven over that morning, probably the earliest he's ever woken up on a Saturday. By the time he knocked on the door, he was fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt. It was to his relief that the one that answered the door was Stanley, giving him an encouraging yet anxious smile. It didn't help Rick’s nerves.

He was in dressed in a clean, pressed button up shirt and dark pressed slacks. Even had a tie and dress shoes on. It was horribly uncomfortable but he wanted to look his best for this. If it was for Stanley, he'd put up with it. 

Stanley let him, laying a large hand on a narrow shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Rick gave him what he hoped was a smile but it felt more like a grimace. He didn't have any liquid courage in him. Being sober was horrifying.

They walked to the den, where Filbrick was sitting in his leather chair, reading the paper. Stanley entered first, letting Rick fall slightly back but right by his side.

“Sir?” Stanley started, an slight warble in his voice. He swallowed thickly before continuing on. “Sir, Dad, we've got something to tell you.”

Filbrick looked up from his paper, his signature sunglasses still on even though he was indoors, and the look of indifferent disdain etched into his face. He didn't say anything but gave a slight twitch of his brow, letting his son know he was listening, for now.

It was Rick’s turn now, taking a step forward so his shoulder brushed against Stanley’s, standing side by side now. “H-hello sir, I'm Rick Sanchez. I-I-I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Stanley’s friend. I went to school with them before I graduated.” Rick extended a nervous hand, thanking whatever deity out there that it wasn't shaking.

Filbrick didn't make a move to shake Rick’s hand, or any move at all. The corners of his lips twitching downward slightly. He wasn't one for having his time wasted.

Rick honestly didn't know if the other's father remembered him or even bothered to know his sons’ friends. If he did, he didn't make any acknowledgement to it. He let his hand drop back to his side.

“I-I just wanted to ask you-you for your blessings to.. to be with your son.” The last part was a bit rushed but he said it firmly, with conviction. 

Stanley told him how old fashion his father was and he wanted to do this right. He wanted to show his boyfriend how much he meant to him. He was willing to face hell with arms wide open to make the other smile. Not that he'd ever say it out loud even under torture, but he knew the other felt it all the same.

The silence stretched for long moments before Filbrick finally set his paper down on the end table, standing up, towering and imposing in height and presence. His expression had lost the indifference and all that was left was disdain.

“Be with my son? My son, Stanley, with another man?” His voice was empty of any emotion, just a low gruff monotone.

“Y-yes sir, I wanna be with him for the-the rest of my life,” Stanley’s hand had found Rick’s, their fingers intertwining as the stood in front of the man.

The slight downward curl of Filbrick’s lips pulled even farther into a deep frown. “You'll never get my blessings until the day I die. The answer is no.” The finality of the tone reminded Rick of a coffin being nailed shut. “Stanley, get away from him. No son of mine is being a queer.”

Stanley’s hand trembled in Rick’s but he held tighter, Rick’s hand acting as an anchor. “No dad, I won't. I.. I love him.”

“I-I-I came to ask you-you for your blessings out of respect. But I'm gonna be, gonna be with him anyways. Y-y-you don't have to be so rude.” Rick chirped in, standing as tall as he could, which was already tall, and showing the other he wasn't going to be intimidated by him.

“If you don't let go of that faggot’s hand right now, Stanley, you're no son of mine.”

Stanley flinched hard, his hand clenching and unclenching as he wavered a bit. Rick just held steadfast to the other, giving a light squeeze, letting him know he was right there. Always.

“Then I guess I'm not your son anymore, _sir_ ,” Stanley let the last word be said with all the hurt and anger he felt.

Filbrick didn't say anything for a moment before letting his face slip back into a look of indifference. “Get out,” He said simply, with such finality that there was no room for argument or even a comeback. He sat back down in his chair, going back to reading his paper like nothing happened.

Rick glared at the man sitting there, feeling his lover start to tremble, he snarled. He turned and pulled Stanley from the room, throwing a “F-fuck you” over his shoulder as they left, quickly leaving the once home of Stanley. 

They made it all the way to the car, climbing in and closing the doors with a slam. Rick was cursing, just full of piss and vinegar, calling Filbrick all types of names before trying to brush off his rejection like nothing.

He stopped as he saw Stanley, trying so hard not to let the complete rejection of his father affect him so badly. His body was trembling, shaking in the passenger's seat, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He side, running his fingers through his once tame dark blue locks, messing them up like they normally were. Rick turned the larger man’s face to look at him, giving him a soft smile, thumb rubbing one cheek.

“H-Hey now, you're dad’s always been a, been a hard ass, right? He could come around eventually. If not, fuck him! No matter what he says, we-we’ll be together. We'll be a family from now, from now on.” Rick’s thumb brushed a stray tear away from Stanley’s cheek. He wasn't one for mushy words or actions but, sometimes, it needed to be done. It was one of those times.

Stanley let out a mirthless chuckle, staring into the other's eyes, one large hand coming to cover a narrow one on his cheek. “Yeah, yeah.. That sounds nice.” 

Rick grinned and kissed him, it was gentle yet firm, expressing what words couldn't. “F-Fuck yeah! Let's run away! We could, we could run away to another galaxy! One where we could get married!” He kept grinning as he moved to sit right in the driver's seat, turning the ignition on and putting it in drive. He peeled out, heading for no place in particular, just wanting to leave the past behind them and head toward their future. 

Stan gave a genuine laugh, the worst was over and now they could move forward. “As long as it's with you, I'll go anywhere you go.” His hand laid on top of Rick’s, smiling. 

He was hurt but he was happy. No matter what his father said, he'd stay by Rick’s side. Forever and forever a hundred years. As long as they were together, it was going to be okay. 

They'd be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel rather proud of this story.
> 
> I like a bit of fluffy Stanchez now and again, with some angst. 
> 
> If you have a song that you want me to do about Stanchez, let me know! I'll try my best.


End file.
